Irish Revenge
by Zombie450AirBournePrincess
Summary: Sequel to Irish Love. Follows Boondock Saints 2: All Saints day. Troy and Regan once again join forces with Connor and Murphy. But how are the four of them now that not only they have admitted their love for each other but are called back to Boston? Co-Written with LoopyLou1990


**So it's been a little over a year but here is the sequel to Irish Love. Once again it will be wrote with LoopyLou1990. Enjoy!**

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_The boulevard is empty, eerie silence. No cars, no people. A man walks down the middle of the street, long trench, dark shades._

_"There's two kinds of people in this world when you boil it all down. You got your talkers and you got your doers." We recognize this man as ROCCO. He crosses Copley Square toward the looming dome of the Trinity Church._

_"Most people are just talkers. All they got is talk. But when all's said and done, it is the doers who change the world. And when they do that, they change us. That's why we never forget them...So, which one are you? Do you just talk about it? Or do you stand up and do something about it? Because believe you all the rest of it is just coffee-house bullshit."_

**~Regan~**

It was rather peaceful in Ireland on the farm. The four of us perched atop a boulder. The flock of sheep encircles us. Our army sacks and shotguns are nearby. Connor and Murphy roll the cigarettes with effortless synchronicity and light up. Connor and Murphy MacManus now have long hair with heavy facial growth. Rugged. Piercing eyes. I wasn't much for smoking but with Connor it felt natural to lit up when he did. We sat looking off into the horizon.

"Looks like a storm's comin'." Murphy was the first one to break the silence.

"Aye." Connor replied. We sat finishing off our cigarettes. We drive the flock across jewel green hills. Troy cuts a sheep from a thicket and sets it off.

_"Peace, they say, is the enemy of memory. So it had been for my boys and girls." Poppa MacManus VO_

I couldn't help but roll my eyes seeing Connor share some jerky with a sheep dog as the flock surges. I laughed taking a bite from his as we went.

_"For some time now, their past had felt like a dream to them...faded and worn." Poppa VO_

Troy had traced the faded Celtic Cross tattoo on Murphy's forearm, getting Murphy to touch his Celtic Cross. You can't help but notice. With the sheep taken care of we head to the house seeing Poppa on the porch in his rocking chair coughing as he watches us.

_"And then suddenly, as if not a day had passed...it was back. I could see it in their eyes." Poppa VO_

We sit around the table eating a rustic dinner of stew that Poppa had made for us well the storm rages on outside.

_"I could feel it, heavy in their presence. Something calling them back." Poppa VO_

I had to wonder if Poppa could feel the heaviness we all felt to go back he just looks at us as we keep eating. Night comes fast and morning comes quick. But as long as I'm with Connor then nothing can ruin me.

Very early dawn leads to a shadowy morning light. We sip coffees and look out into the rain. Lightening lights up the flock. Through the open door behind us we can smell Poppa stroking the warm fire. Much like Troy had I let my fingers glide across Connor's Celtic Cross tattoo on his forearm, making him touch the Celtic cross. We share a look as the rain suddenly stops and all the "little sounds" of morning cease. Something's amiss. We can hear the wolves savagely attack the screaming sheep. BOOM! BOOM! Connor and Murphy blast shotguns at the wolves. One is hit, the rest retreat. We perform mercy killings on the wolf and one sheep. Everything calms as Poppa rushes up with a mag light and stops. He coughs roughly.

_"And they cried out, How long O'Lord dost thou not judge and revenge our blood upon them that dwell on the earth?"_

The boys toss the wolf carcass onto a bonfire. Once again it starts to rain.

_"And God said, "All will fear the wrath of the lamb. For the great day of their reckoning hath come.""_

We join Poppa to look across the blaze to his sons. Connor and Murphy stare into the fire, bathed in the light of angry flames.

_"And they that holdest my name shall come with the shaking of the earth and the roiling of the ocean."_

By night fall it was a complete downpour. We could hear a rugged old jeep tear through the mud. Stopping at the farmhouse. We come out onto the porch to see who had come to us. A dark figure with a fedora and rain slicker exits the jeep and hurries to the porch. Meet Uncle Sibeal. He's 62 years old. He wears a priest's collar.

"something's happened." He had worked himself into frenzy and now he had my attention.

We sit around the table. Letting Sibeal explain that someone had mocked what he had done posing to be the saints. I was pissed and ready to go kill the motherfucker that did it. By the looks from the boys and Troy we were all on the same page. Anger was slowly taking over.

"The priest. Did they release his name?" Murphy asked the question we all wanted the answer too.

"No. But I made a few calls, still got some friends in the diocese there. McKinney. Father Douglas McKinney." Them fucking bastards. Father Douglas McKinney was the last person on earth that deserved this. Recognition hit everyone's face. People had to know that we wouldn't do this. That we killed the ones that had it coming, never a priest, not one like the father. Bless his soul. "You knew him?"

"Knew of him. Everybody did. A regular Mother Theresa. Youth hostels, soup kitchens. Even made it into the newspapers sometimes." Connor explained. You could see that Sibeal was considering it. He genuflects and turns. "Listen boys. I think it's best that ya just stay put and we'll try ta figure out what..." That was a nice suggestion and all. But Sibeal that wasn't gonna happen. Connor and Murphy are out the door and headed for the barn. Confused, Sibeal looks to Poppa, who just sips his coffee.

"Can ya believe this?" I whisper to Troy. She shakes her head.

"Outta everyone them fuckers go for the father. Talking about having a target on your back."

"They're probably stupid enough they wanted the target on their backs. People gotta know this wasn't us right? The saints don't kill the good."

"You know how people are Regan. They believe what they hear. Whether it be true or not." I sighed leaning back in my chair. She was right on that. We had to fix this. We were going to fix this. We wait as Poppa M thinks, then shakes his head.

"Naw...I'm in no condition. I'd just slow 'em down." I understood where he was coming from. He didn't wanna be a risk for us.

"Well, are ya at least gonna try ta talk them out of this?" Sibeal trys and I try to stifle my laughter. It wasn't funny. But they're was no talking anyone outta this. We were going. Someone was putting a bad name on the saints and we had to fix that problem. Poppa shakes his head. "We don't even know what this is yet! Somebody could just be tryin' ta get away with murder here!"

"Aye. Only there's about a thousand easier ways ta do that. Trust me. Someone's callin' them out, Sibeal. Ya kill a priest in a church and make it look like they did it. Bring 'em back with a vengeance. Don't know who. Don't know why. But someone thinks he's real fuckin' clever. Only one problem with his little plan." A'men Poppa.

"What's dat?" Sibeal asked.

"It worked." You could smell the fear and see the frustration burst from Sibeal.

"Jesus Christ! D'er's too much we don't know and if you won't at least try ta talk some sense into them, I will!" Sibeal replied determined more now than ever.

"You can try but it wont work out." Troy smarted off. I nodded in agreement. The door opens and in comes Connor and Murphy. They look like their normal self's. The long hair and beards gone.  
They have black duffel bags I can only assume has cash and guns in it. They have their signature rosaries around their necks. Even Sibeal notes the change in appearance. The boys stand at the kitchen table's opposing end, hands in their pockets. I stand by Connor and Troy stands by Murphy. Our resolve fills the room.

We face off with Poppa and Sibeal: a bizarre board meeting. Poppa cocks a brow at Sibeal who clears his throat.

"Exactly what do you intend to do?" Silence. Nobody moves. Connor withdraws a hand from his pocket and looks down. He flips a penny on the table. It clatters to a stop.

"Every last motherfucker that had anything to do with it." Murphy speaks.


End file.
